The Ottawa River was hundreds of miles long and at many points could be over a mile wide. It was at least that far across at the point where Simon appeared. He leaned on his staff and took a few minutes to just enjoy the amazing view.
The river was blue-green under the bright sky, the water choppy out in the middle with whitecaps leaping and foaming. But whatever wind was churning up the river couldn't reach the wizard where he stood surrounded by trees.
Simon wondered where Aquamastis was. He wasn't quite clear on the relationship between the powerful water elemental and this river that he lived in now. Was he stretched thinly along its entire length? Or did he travel from one end to the other in an endless patrol? It was quite possible that it was something else entirely, something that a human could not even understand.
Whatever it was, he was happy for the elemental. Aquamastis had helped him twice against primal dragons and all it had cost was Simon saying that the powerful being could stay on Earth and live in the river. A small price to pay for helping to save humanity.
But he wasn't here to see the elemental; at least not today. No, he really had wanted to walk and work things out in his mind about the best way to lay Daniel to rest. Maybe it had also helped to settle his emotions down a bit. Having Ethmira show up with his friend's ashes had brought back all of his feelings of grief and loss. And guilt.
Simon found a large rock jutting out into the water and climbed to the top of it. He pulled up his robe with a wry smile at how undignified it must look and sat down on the warm surface. He lay his staff across his knees and let himself examine his emotions, especially how guilty he felt over Daniel's death. Then he reached back to the time before magic and lost himself in his memories.
Chapter 15
A year before the return of the dragons, Simon had begun to Change. His large frame and muscles had started to shrink. He had begun to grow back his hair and the deeps lines and creases on his face were fading.
It had been a slow process but eventually the people that he had worked with began to notice. Changlings were in the news all the time back then and there was an underlying fear and suspicion of what they were and what was happening. Simon had decided to leave his job as it became more and more uncomfortable working there.
And shortly after that it had ceased to matter anyway because technology began to break down.
He sighed and picked up a pebble off of the rock. He tossed it blindly into the river and listened to the 'plonk' as it landed and sank.
“What a mess that was,” he murmured as he looked across the river. “First all forms of internal combustion engines began to fail; planes, trains and automobiles stopped working. Then the Internet, television and radio died. And finally the electricity failed completely. And without electricity there is no water, no refrigeration, no cooking. No heating and cooling. Modern society stumbles into anarchy.”
And it was at this precise moment that Daniel had stepped in.
Simon had begun spending most days and night at his friend's home. The huge rambling old house at least had several fireplaces where they could burn wood for heating and cooking. Daniel had stocked up on bottled water, dried food and other supplies and it was as comfortable as any place could be with gangs of desperate people roaming the streets looking for ways to survive. The two friends had barricaded the doors and windows just in case.
Authority broke down amazingly quickly. The police couldn't function; no cars, no radios and finally, no working guns. With no way to stay organized and enforce the law, the police department eventually gave up and then it was every man and woman for themselves.
That was when, in the midst of Simon's Change, that Daniel had told him to run.
“Leave this city, Simon,” he'd said. “Your tower is fully stocked with food, you have a working pump that draws fresh water and, except for you, me and a handful of construction workers who I doubt give a damn, no one else knows where it is.”
They had been sitting in the library, surrounded by hundreds of old tomes, a fire crackling on the hearth. Daniel had dug up a bottle of cognac from somewhere and both of them were sitting in armchairs facing the fire. Simon remembered being pleasantly drunk.
His friend's suggestion caught him by surprise and he took some time to answer.
“Sick of me already?” he'd asked finally.
“You know I'm not. But this town is only going to get worse. People have begun to fight in the streets. They are getting more and more desperate by the day and who can blame them? The government has all but vanished, even tinned food is running out and it's a long way to the river to get drinkable water. Parents are frantic. Hell, everyone is. And your Change is accelerating.”
“Tell me about it.”
Simon had looked down at his body; a body he could barely accept was his anymore.
His right arm was slim and smooth like a boy's but his left was still thick with muscle and covered in hair. His legs were the same weird combination. When he walked, he rolled to one side with an exaggerated limp. Thank God he had retained his six feet in height, but it was like the halves of two different people had been glued together. Simon avoided looking in any mirrors now; what he saw was both hideous and terrifying.
“When did your eyes change color?” Daniel asked and leaned forward to see better in the flickering firelight. “This is the first time I've noticed that.”
“They changed color?” Simon groaned. “Oh crap. What are they now; purple or pink?”
Daniel barked a laugh.
“No. One is a lovely sky blue and the other is a soulful brown.”
“Great. Two different colors. So much for having hazel eyes. As if I'm not freakish looking enough.”
He drank some cognac and sank into bitter thoughts.
“You aren't a freak, Simon,” Daniel said calmly. “Your Change will eventually alter your entire body, not just one side. For God's sake, you're getting younger! Surely some discomfort is worth that, isn't it? Especially to a man who's almost sixty-one?”
Simon looked at him sourly.
“My age is irrelevant. You know that. I can take on men half my age. I can bench over four hundred pounds and not break a sweat. I don't give two shits about becoming young again. I hated my youth. God, years of awkwardness. Acne. Social ineptness. Ugh, my teens were a nightmare, not something I look back on fondly. And if that's the direction my Change is taking me, somebody pull over the bus; I want to get off.”
Daniel laughed again and shook his head at Simon's intransigence.
“The Change won't stop, old friend. It will progress until it is complete or you are dead. I think we can at least agree that the second option isn't the best one. But you need a place where you can allow the process to occur at its own pace; where you are secure, well fed, safe. And that is your tower.”
“And just how the hell do I get there? It's not like I can call a cab or take a bus. And the horses are running wild now. I let them run free a couple of months ago, the last time I was there. Things were already breaking down and I wasn't sure if I'd ever get back so I released them.”
“Good thinking, but Chief and the girls are loyal. I doubt if they've gone too far from home. As to how you get there, old man; you walk. You put one thick leg in front of one skinny leg and you move that misshapen ass out of this doomed city.”
Simon felt a chill of fear ripple down his back, breaking through his alcoholic haze.
“Doomed? What do you mean, doomed?”
“Just what I said.”
Daniel refilled his glass, reached over to top up Simon's and sat back again. He sipped his liquor and stared blindly at the flames in the fireplace.
“This city, hell, all cities, are doomed to fall. A city survives only when its infrastructure remains intact. And ours is gone now. Ottawa has gone from Canada's capital to just a mass of people fighting to live. And I'm sure that every other city in the world is going through exactly what we are. Technology is gone, my friend. We will soon be
reduced to using bows and arrows for hunting and swords to protect ourselves. Bye-bye New Age, hello dark ages. Fun times.”
Simon watched his friend take a large swallow and grimace at the burning of the cognac in his throat.
“But, surely there must be some countries, some cities that are doing better than we are?” he asked with some desperation. “London maybe or Beijing?”
“Why would they be?” Daniel asked without turning away from the fire. “People are people. Even the iron-fisted Chinese government can't control a billion people with police batons and harsh language. No, society as we know it is done for. A new order will rise eventually for the survivors, if there are any, but what it will be is anyone's guess. Feudalism maybe? Now that's a horrible thought. Serfs and nobles? Disgusting.”
“Whatever. I'm not going to think the worst just yet,” Simon told him, completely ignoring what he'd said a minute before. “Let's get back to our situation here. If you want me to head to the tower, fine. I can travel by night along the river; people are afraid of the gangs that have started roaming after dark, but the idiots always have torches and sound like a herd of buffalo so they're easy to avoid. But why don't you come with me? Why tell me to run if you aren't going to do the same?”
“Because I still have work to do, that's why,” his friend answered sharply.
Daniel waved at the books that surrounded them. On the walls between the bookshelves, odd relics and strange paintings hung on display; the fruit of Daniel's labors after he had traveled the world and explored countless dig sites and excavations.
“My research isn't complete yet. And I'm fairly safe here for the time being. After all, I'm not the one Changing.”
Simon looked at his friend's lanky frame. Ten years younger than himself with a mane of blond hair, Daniel was strikingly handsome. He was fit and tall and always wore a smoking jacket at home, even though the only thing he smoked was the occasional Cuban cigar.
“Why should you? You're still young.”
Daniel frowned at him.
“What the hell does that have to do with anything? Children are Changing, Simon. You know that. It was on the news on a daily basis before all communication failed. Adults like yourself who are going through the Change were almost ignored by reporters. Not interesting enough, I suppose. My age is irrelevant. And I'll tell you something; I wish I had been chosen to Change. I'd give up anything I owned if I had been so lucky.”
“Lucky?”
Simon lurched to his feet, his uneven body weight almost causing him to tip over.
“You call this lucky?” he asked, almost yelling. “Look at me! I'm a goddamned circus freak! A hundred years ago they would have put me on stage right next to the bearded lady!”
Daniel met his angry gaze calmly.
“Always so dramatic. Sit down, Simon.”
Simon fell into his chair with an undignified plop and glared at his friend.
“Look, you don't understand,” Daniel said with a tired sigh. “You, and the others like you, are the future. Yes, you aren't pretty at the moment. Well, boohoo. Cry me a river. But your body will continue to alter itself until you are whole and young and perfect. Trust me on that. And in the new world that is coming, you Changlings will be the survivors. The ones who aren't Changing, like me? We'll be relics of the past. The New Earth will reject us and we will stumble along very quickly into extinction.”
Simon's anger faded as he tried to grasp what his friend was saying.
“What are you talking about? What New Earth? What do you think is going to happen, Daniel?”
His friend set down his glass on a small table next to his chair and turned to stare darkly at Simon.
“Something is coming, old friend. Something...terrible. I have spent years chasing prophecies, researching ancient texts, building a case in my own mind about the future. I foresaw all of this, you know. The failure of technology, the fall of civilization into chaos. Oh yes, I saw it coming. But I was absolutely powerless to do anything to stop it. And warn people? How? I would have been just another nut job written up in the tabloids alongside stories of alien abductions. But what I also came to realize is that our race had one hope, one small chance at survival; the Changlings.”
He chuckled a bit and winked at Simon.
“Little did I know that my best friend would end up being one of them.”
“I'm sorry. Maybe I'm just thick but I don't understand.”
Simon finished his liquor and looked down at the empty glass, watching the crystal reflect the dancing light from the fireplace.
“You say you foresaw this chaos?”
Daniel nodded.
“But then, why stay? Why not create a place of your own, like the tower you helped me design for myself? You could be somewhere safe, away from all of this madness, right now.”
“I told you, Simon. People who don't Change, and that will be the majority of us, are doomed. All the walls and locks and doors won't keep out what is coming; not for us. I do have a plan to save myself though. Maybe it's cowardly of me to want to live beyond the destruction of my species but I've never been a quitter. After you leave and I'm sure you're safe, I will get out of here; I promise you that.”
“Then come with me,” Simon said, almost begging. “If you're leaving anyway, leave with me. Why hang around?”
“I want to finish my research. I have some notes to make and I'd like to complete my journal. Maybe someone in the distant future will stumble upon it and find it interesting. Who knows?”
He gave Simon an strange, knowing look and then refilled both of their glasses.
“Tomorrow night, old friend, you begin your journey. Now don't argue with me. Every day that passes brings us one step closer to the inevitable end. And from that end you, and the other Changlings as well, will rise like the phoenix reborn from the ashes of our fallen civilization. So cheer up. It will be a glorious future. Frankly, I envy all of you.”
Simon plunked another stone into the river.
Daniel had absolutely saved his life. He hadn't known it then but his friend had indeed escaped, not into the countryside but into another dimension. The elves had become interested in him. They had seers who knew that the old gods, both Good and Evil, were returning. And they had seen Daniel traveling around the world; digging for clues, putting the pieces of ancient prophecy together. They had been intrigued and had finally contacted him in visions. And, as the magic leaking into the mortal realm began to reassert itself, they had opened up a portal into their own world and brought Daniel to them.
“He should have stayed there, damn it!” Simon exclaimed angrily.
He threw another stone as far out into the river as he could, stood up and climbed down off of the rock. He brushed off his robe with an impatient hand and began walking east, toward the city.
Yes, Daniel should have stayed with the elves. But instead he chose to return to Earth, to see his best friend one last time.
“Stupid, stupid,” Simon muttered as he stumbled along the rocky shore. “What the hell was he thinking?”
But the answer was self-evident. He knew that Simon was going to face the primal black dragon and he knew that he would need an edge. And that edge had been two-fold. Ethmira and her elven archers had joined in the battle and helped to lure the primal black to a place of Simon's choosing. And Daniel had given the wizard an incantation to summon his first real staff, Bene-Dunn-Gal.
He looked at the staff that he was using as a walking stick. It was a beautiful creation, all metal and white wood; created by Shandon Ironhand, the king of the dwarves.
But Bene-Dunn-Gal had been special. It had been a relic of ancient times, semi-sentient and incredibly powerful. If it hadn't been for Daniel returning to the Earth and giving Simon his aid, the wizard was quite sure that the black dragon would have won that day.
And that's why you feel guilty, he said to himself.
He rounded a long curve along the shoreline and could suddenly see for miles dow
n the river. There, in the distance, was the very site that he had been thinking of: Aylmer Island, the scene of his first great battle against a dragon.
Without thinking, Simon pointed his staff at that smudge on the river.
“Gate,” he said and felt a violent yank forward. He stumbled and almost fell as he appeared instantly on the scrubby bit of land surrounded by the white-capped water.
Out here the wind was quite high and he had to brace himself against its force. His long hair whipped past his eyes and he pushed it back again and again, wishing he'd thought to bring something to tie it back with.
The island looked much as it had after the clash with the dragon. Several great swatches of the sandy soil had been fused by dragon-fire, but some of the scrub brush that had been burned away that day had regrown and pushed its way up through the crusty surface.
Nature always comes back, he thought and then turned to look to the southeast.
And there it was, shining across the wide river; the silhouette of the Parliament Buildings.
Well, what's left of them anyway, Simon thought.
The former seat of Canadian political power had been built on the top of a bluff overlooking the river. And its iconic outline, topped by the Peace Tower, was immediately identifiable.
The tower had resembled Big Ben in London with clock faces on all four sides. Simon could remember being so jaded by familiarity that he would drive by the tower and only look up at it to make sure his watch was showing the correct time.
That was impossible now. The top of the structure had been ripped away by the black dragon on the Night of Burning. There was barely a third of the tower left pointing at the sky; its sad, ragged outline a stark reminder of the power of the gods of Chaos.
“Bastards,” Simon muttered as he squeezed his staff so hard that it squeaked.
He stood still and looked at the buildings for a long time while the wind whipped his hair in all directions, lost in bitter memories. Gradually though it dawned on him that there was something different about the silhouette that he was staring at.
Tales from the New Earth: Volume Two Page 59